


The Cardassian Headache

by kiddywonkus



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Caradassian Rebuilding Effort, M/M, Post DS9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 13:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiddywonkus/pseuds/kiddywonkus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Assassination plots and chronic headaches make Bashir worry over Garak's continuing good health. </p><p>(previously archived on ff.net)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cardassian Headache

"It is absolute nonsense, Doctor." Garak smiled. "I assure you."

"Forgive me, Garak, but your assurances have never really been all that reassuring," Julian Bashir said, his rejoinder absent-minded as he stared at endless stream of data that scrolled by.

"I feel fine," the Cardassian continued. "And I'm sure if there  _were_  poison I would be dead by now."

"I  _am_  assured that this time it wasn't poison. But as for you feeling fine, I beg to differ." Julian frowned at the chart. Finally, he turned around to face the sickeningly bemused and annoyingly unaffected Cardassian. "How long have you been having these headaches?"

Garak's smile widened. "Oh, not for so long, and I don't imagine their cause being anything else but stress."

Julian sighed walked over to Garak. It had been nearly a decade since he met the wily Cardassian, and he considered himself well adjusted to his mind games. In fact, he realized reluctantly, they seemed quite normal. In the back of his mind, he wondered when it was he realized their conversations were never really voiced, just implied, and he wondered when he just simply accepted that. It had been years at the very least.

Julian placed his hand on Garak's shoulder, but found it hard to look into the shallow iciness of the Cardassian's blue eyes. "Garak, how can I believe that if attempted assassinations don't even elevate your level of stress?"

"Oh, my dear, I think you misunderstand me. I take attempts on my life very seriously, it is just that I don't take this one to be an attempt at all."

"Garak." Julian frowned. "She admitted to it."

"Which means nothing." Garak raised a placating hand. "After all, I've made people admit to many things they never had done."

Again, Julian sighed. "Fine. Go then, and take some security precautions for God's sakes."

"There is no need to worry, my dear Julian." And with that, Garak smiled once more and left with the room with what Julian Bashir almost mistook for a skip in his step.

This was the good doctor's second year on Cardassia, and he still wasn't sure he was used to anything. The heat, for one, was nothing he had ever had to deal with before. He wiped his brow with his arm, and turned back to look at Garak's medical charts. He still was no expert of Cardassian physiology - although he had unwittingly become the Federation's leader in the area- but he knew even this was a bit odd. Cardassians, that was definitely another thing he hadn't gotten used to. His honest character stuck out like a sore thumb, and he had to learn to stop believing his constantly dissembling patients after the near death of one particularly convincing old man. He should have been used to this already, though. Garak, he reminded himself, did the very same thing to him on numerous occasions.

Still, the charts were strange. Caradassian headaches released a chemical that could be detected in the brain for at least ten minutes after the pain has dissipated. One rarely encountered them during a check up unless the patient happened to be having one, not that a Cardassian would tell him. But Garak's charts from his last two check ups showed the same signs, and the chemicals were building up. He didn't really know what that meant, but Garak seemed fine so he hoped for the best.

That's what he seemed to do with Garak. Hope for the best. Two years, after a disastrously botched attempt a serious relationship, Julian had himself reassigned to the Medical Relief Front in Cardassia. Garak, didn't seem surprised at his appearance. He just smiled when Julian showed up at his door and said, "Ah, Doctor. I was wondering when you would show up."

He was at the time a mere Counselor, living in the ruins of what Bashir assumed was his former home if his letters were anything to judge from. It was almost as if, despite all his nostalgic comments, he reveled in its destruction, that he enjoyed living in this place that no longer was.

The letters Garak had sent two years ago had been a surprise. Julian had expected that they would keep up correspondence, as Garak's natural inclinations of a spy never disappeared and therefore neither did the desire for networking, but he had never expected the Cardassian to be honest with him- although even then he wasn't sure what were lies and what were not. The only thing he could know for certain was the honesty of his feelings. Julian was honored to be the sole witness of them. The stories might be lies, but the liar's true self was exposed nonetheless

Somehow, with this sudden display of earnesty, the man became even more of a mystery and Julian could hardly deny his attraction any longer.

Mystery was what always attracted Julian. He thought he had found it in Dax, with its different personalities wrapped up in sort of Gordian knot, but the truth was that he was with Ezri Dax, and Ezri was easy to figure out. He took the proverbial knife and cut her in two and saw just how uncomplicated she really was. Sweet, to be sure, but not what he needed. Not what he craved. Naturally, he got bored, like he always did, but he did try to stay with it. He had lost too many friends in the war, and he didn't want to be alone. Ezri couldn't bring Jadzia back, and she couldn't fill the emptiness.

Then Garak's letters came, and he started to understand what it was he wanted; perhaps what he had truly wanted the whole time.

Deep Space Nine, with the wormhole, was no longer a frontier, and it too started to bore him. Cardassia now was the wild and the unknown, where civilization struggled to get a foothold, and in the center of it all he would find Garak.

Julian sighed. Now that he had found Garak, nothing had really changed. The Cardassian was just as evasive, and the honesty of his letters had disappeared, hidden beneath the façade he had to maintain in order to survive public life. It was amazing how the skills of politicians and spies were much the same.

And just like before, someone was after his life while he was killing himself.

In resignation, Julian rubbed his temples.

* * *

 

The headaches were getting worse, and what was more irritating was the fact that although Garak knew how to make them go away, he was choosing not to. He supposed he need only to endure for a few more days, and all would be well. Garak had a thing for mind games, but even he wondered if he was going to far with this.

Garak was in his office, a place he never really thought he would have. He never needed one as a spy, and he thought that he would just drift into the population as a faceless Cardassian when he returned from exile. How attractive that idea seemed to him, and even a bit now. There were things, however, that he could not just stand aside and watch. There were things he had to do something about. And so, now, he had an office, and he was known.

Somehow, in this endeavor, he had made friends, and he was glad for it. Of course, he also made more enemies. The plot to poison him was proof enough of that. Fortunately for him, a friend had discovered the plot –although Garak had already been secretly aware of it- and the soup remained untainted.

Unfortunately, even the best of spies can be taken by a fit of bad timing. A sharp migraine in the middle of lunch convinced everyone that the plot had indeed succeeded the moment his body fell stricken to the floor. Bad timing, he sighed, and now the Doctor was worrying about other, less important things. As if he, Elim Garak, would ever be assassinated.

The headache zinged across his forehead, and he tried to rub into peaceful submission.

"Advocate." Surprised as Garak was for not noticing his visitor, he hid it. He turned in his chair and turned to look at his guest, a tall and lean Cardassian man not much older than himself.

"What is it, Gul Darek?" Garak placed a smile on his face. He knew exactly why the Gul was there.

"I'm not a Gul anymore." Gul Darek's voice was eerily even.

"Perhaps. Guls may not have the power they did before, but you earned the title nonetheless." Garak easily brushed it aside.

Gul Darek stiffened. "I heard of the plot to assassinate you."

"It was hardly a plot." Garak smiled again. "It was more a half-baked plan that was easily exposed."

"I see. Advocate, perhaps you had take better care."

"You are not the only one to suggest that."

"I don't imagine so."

Garak rubbed his temples again as Gul Darek turned to leave. It was amazing how adapted for the life of a politician a spy really was, for everything he ever said to anyone was in code; on two levels. He hoped that Gul Darek got his point.

* * *

 

Julian Bashir had had a hard day. Between his patient load and his worries over Garak's health, he nearly exhausted all of his mental and physical faculties. Tired, he fell into the chair and shot up with a shout. Even after two years, he still forgot about the Cardassian preference for particularly hard furniture.

Fatigued as he was, however, he refused to let himself fall asleep before Garak came home, not that he would be able to in that chair anyway.

Finally, perhaps around midnight or so, Garak came in, his silent arrival betrayed by the soft click of the door.

"Garak." Julian sat up, and was somewhat amused to see that Garak seemed slightly surprised by Julian's awareness of his presence.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"How are your headaches?"

"Ah, you indeed are very persistent, Doctor. I assure you they are nothing to worry about. In fact, I feel fine."

"Indeed." Julian rose, and picked up his medical kit. "Then you won't mind an examination to confirm that."

"You and your need for reassurances. Let me assure of one thing then. Yes, you will find the presence of headaches as I'm sure you're are not surprised to hear," Garak said while Julian scanned his head. "But really, they are a simple matter and easily solved."

"If they are easily cured, why haven't you?"

Garak raised his ridges and smiled. "Perhaps you should brush up on the more baser knowledge of Cardassian physiology. Now, I've had a very busy day and I think I would like to enjoy a bit of respite from it in my dreams. Good night, my dear."

Julian sighed as he watched the Cardassian walk up the stairs to his room. Really, the former spy was being simply impossible. Of course that didn't surprise Julian much. It was another mystery to solve.

Not too unlike their relationship.

Garak had never made any attempt to change the status of their relationship, nor had Julian, yet he felt that they had somehow maneuvered themselves into a position where they both knew where they stood, although it remained unconsummated. Or at least, that's what Julian would have liked to believe. Of course, with Garak he could never really be sure, and so it really just remained a mystery. A mystery Julian wanted to solve, but was a little scared to.

How Julian came to this conclusion was not through the fond, friendly touches Garak had bestowed upon him since their first meeting (although he was beginning to suspect that friendly was not the term to describe them exactly), but rather from his change in addressing Julian. To be sure he called him "doctor", but every now and then he would simply just say "my dear." Julian rather liked that, and he wasn't entirely convinced that they were slips of the tongue.

* * *

 

Garak awoke the next morning feeling a headache more keenly then before, and he knew that if he didn't do something about it that it would soon interfere with his work. But doing something about it directly really wasn't his style. He was fairly sure that Julian would figure it out soon, and that thought made him smile.

* * *

 

"Has Gul Darek come to visit Garak at all lately?" asked Tarin, a somewhat gruff old man who, despite appearances, occasionally had his softer side. A side he saw fit to show only Julian, Garak assured him.

Tarin had been a medical officer who served mostly on the more distant outposts of the Cardassian territories. He escaped the Klingon invasion to Cardassia Prime with only his left eye intact and a large scar running down his neck across his shoulder.

Julian looked up from the records he was scanning. "Garak has mentioned him. Said something about how he's not very quick to lose the old ways."

"Frankly, neither is Garak, although he pretends. "

Julian didn't believe that. Yes, Garak held a certain distaste for Federation Neoliberalism, but he knew that the Cardassian was still very progressive in his own way. He guessed Garak pretended to be more stubborn in order to make the transition and his position more stable. "I suppose," he replied carefully.

"Gul Darek is a dangerous man. Not to many, but at least to Garak he is."

"Oh?" Julian looked up from his PADD.

"Gul Darek's daughter was killed by the Obsidian Order."

Julian's throat clenched. "It wasn't Garak, was it?"

"No. Do you think they would send Garak to do away with some petty rebel?"

"Then I don't see the concern."

"That's because you don't think like a Cardassian." Tarin shook his head. "Who do you think is the remaining face of the Obsidian Order is?"

Things started to click in Julian's head, and he didn't like the overall picture. "Surely there are other survivors."

With a heavy stare, Tarin leaned over his knees, and folded his hands. "All unknown petty agents who had the brains to disappeared into the population. Garak is the only remaining face, funny that he never had one until his exile. That's when everyone knew who he was."

"So you think Gul Darek wants to kill Garak."

Tarin didn't answer.

Julian bit his lip, and looked down at his medical PADD. There were far too many things for one man to worry about, and all of them the man he loved.

"Mr. Tarin, might I ask you a medical question?"

"You may, but I won't guarantee an answer," Tarin responded with typical Cardassian evasiveness. Cardassian anatomy and physiology had always remained a state secret.

"Do Cardassians have frequent headaches?"

Tarin smirked. "That's something they wouldn't report to a doctor, unless," Tarin's grin grew even wider, "erectile dysfunction is usually the reasoning behind that."

Julian didn't get the joke. "I don't think I understand."

"It's a sensitive issue. Frankly, I'm surprised a patient turned to you, a human, to fix it. Of course, perhaps he would feel you wouldn't judge as the condition isn't known to your species."

"What condition?"

" _Takrean Flar,_  of course."

Julian slowly nodded his head, and returned to his medical PADDs. He hadn't seen any mention of the disease in them, but he supposed even a genetically enhanced memory wouldn't remember every word of every journal.

* * *

There were too many things to do in a day, even if the Cardassian day was longer than that of the Bajoran one he was used to on the station. And many things seemed like a million things when headaches are plaguing one as bad as they were Garak.

Gul Darek had come to his office again, speaking as a military official, while managing to plant something on the bottom of the chair. Garak inspected it and found it to be a simple listening device and considered removing it, but decided against it. He liked misleading the military, and with the device there it made his job even easier.

In the old days, Garak would have known what do with Gul Darek. A little murder in the name of personal safety had never offended his morals, after all. However, he suspected he needed Gul Darek. He was stubborn, to be sure, but was grudgingly accepting of the new power structure being constructed in Cardassian society. If only he would just get passed his obsession with revenge.

Garak understood why though, so he felt some pity for the man. Not enough, however, to let himself die.

What Garak found, now that the soup option had failed, was that next attempt would likely be a phaser blast to his back on the way home. However, Gul Darek probably wanted to take matters into his own hands, and he was honorable enough to face him before he pulled the trigger. Still, a phaser blast from the front or the back made no difference to Garak, he'd rather just avoid the whole unpleasant ordeal altogether.

Garak thought for awhile, and considered his options. All the alternatives that naturally came to him, such as destroying reputations and murder, just didn't seem appropriate anymore. It was time, he decided, to try a more daring tactic.

* * *

 

The medical PADD had no information on  _takrean flar_  so he went to Garak's interface and entered his access codes. As a human, he wasn't allowed to access the Cardassian networks, something Garak found both very appropriate and a little bit stupid.

The subject of  _takrean flar_  strangely did not show up in many medical journals, but more in PADD-zines for men that seemed to mostly have advice about sex lives. Julian's mouth opened in understanding. "Oh," he smiled.

* * *

 

Garak had called Gul Darek back to his office, trying not to inwardly grimace at the prospect of doing what he was going to do.

"Is there something we did not discuss Advocate?" Gul Darek stood stiffly in front of the chair.

"Yes, there is," Garak said, motioning the Gul to sit.

Gul Darek did not move. "And that is?"

"Gul Darek. I'm not the Obsidian Order." Garak's face went perfectly straight. "That died with Tain."

Gul Darek's eyes narrowed. "I don't understand what you mean."

"Assuredly, my training allowed me to see your clumsy attempts on my life more quickly then someone else, but let me tell you this: my death is only a return to the old ways, and it is the old ways that killed your daughter. Believe me, you would not be alive now if I were still abiding by them. I would suggest you let go, as I have."

Gul Darek said nothing for a few moments, his face harder than it ever was before. Then, he closed his eyes. "I understand."

As Gul Darek left, Garak said, "I am sorry for her. She would have done well for herself if she were alive now." Gul Darek stopped at the door, nodded, and exited.

Garak shook his head. It felt strange being… direct, and upfront. He was feeling distinctly unCardassian, and he didn't know if he was entirely comfortable with that idea.

* * *

 

"I've got good news for you, my dear Julian," Garak said dully when he arrived home that night, though it looked like he were trying to sound and look brighter. "My life is no longer in danger. Well, for the moment anyway."

It was obvious to Julian upon his arrival home that Garak could no longer pretend the headaches didn't bother him.

"Garak," Julian said, ignoring him. "You need a Doctor."

Garak sat down leaned his head back over the back of the sofa. "Perhaps."

It was hard to know if Julian read the signs right, but he liked to think he knew Garak long enough to be able to. Slowly, he sat down next to the man. "Fortunately for you, I am a Doctor."

Garak didn't answer, but instead rubbed his temples. Working up his courage, Julian removed Garak's hands and began to massage his ridges, feeling the hard texture on his fingers.

" _Takrean flar_  is easily treatable, you know," Julian said softly.

"It is," Garak said with a slight moan, obviously enjoying Julian's caresses.

"But you knew that, didn't you? So the question is, why not treat it yourself?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"Do I?" Julian stopped, and looked into Garak's eyes. "You always have to make things difficult, don't you?"

"I do, don't I?" Garak smiled. "Well, aren't you going to cure me?"

Julian snorted, but leaned in to kiss him anyway. "Yes, but in my bed. This sofa is far too hard."

"Whatever you say, my dear Doctor."

**Author's Note:**

> Garak, you can be such a headache, you know that?


End file.
